


alive with the glory of love

by punkeraa



Series: seasons [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M, Revelations, Reylo - Freeform, but SAD fluff, mainly fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2019-02-03 02:12:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12738897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkeraa/pseuds/punkeraa
Summary: “Let the past die,” he quietly says. “Kill it, if you have to. That’s the only way to become what you’re meant to be."winter





	alive with the glory of love

Rey’s fury is matched by the raging storm raining chaos on the surface of Ahch-To, the choppy sea a deep, ominous black that belies a peaceful death. Rain pellets the hull of the _Millennium Falcon_ as she coaches the ship heavenwards to the stars above. Air enters her lungs, lifting her ribcage with a deep breath. The Force flexes around her, encircling and embracing her wild senses. As the ship breaks through the upper limits of the atmosphere, Rey’s volcanic anger vanishes—as suddenly as she erupted, she finds serenity through the Force, through the deep breaths, and through the meditative state piloting brings her to.

Never before has an argument with her Master gone so violently, not since she first arrived on the isolated island a year and a half prior. Their argument had been, of course, on the same subject—whether or not Luke Skywalker would return to aid the Resistance and his twin sister General Leia Organa. His answer remained the same: no. 

The young Jakku woman felt insulted, her time so far wasted in that his answer has not changed. What could she have done differently to change Luke’s mind? How could he not budge after a year and a half? Did he feel no sense of loyalty to his sister, to protect Leia by coming to stand by her side in the open? Has Rey failed an entire galaxy full of oppressed souls? 

Guilt-laced anxiety ripples through the calm fog that has settled in Rey’s brain—she can’t bear the loss of innocent life, not when she knows she could have done something to prevent it. Master Luke scolds her regularly for this guilt, saying that her naivety will wither away as she commands more and more beings to their deaths.

With the Force’s guidance her fingers absentmindedly punch in certain coordinates, a dreamy gaze adding to her faraway look. Before she allows the fear of Luke’s rejection to inform her decision, Rey punches it, sending the _Falcon_ into the streaking blue-white light of hyperspace as she dwells on her mentor. 

_How did he get to be so...uncaring? Where did his empathy go?_

Once the lights are low and everything configured for the remainder of her journey, Rey goes to lay on one of the beds in the sleeping quarters to further meditate. Yet as moments pass staring up at the bottom of another bunk, Rey doesn’t feel the tranquility of mediation but rather feels that ever-present connection begin to quiver and constrict, tightening with activity as the other side begins to move. The tentative reach of his consciousness is the same, always dripping in low self-esteem—how could such a powerful warlord be so self-loathing, so timid and meek when approaching her, a simple scavenger? Her eyes squeeze shut, unwilling to acknowledge the warmth emanating from his side of their bond.

To distract herself, Rey conjures images of the planet she chose as her brief getaway home, at least for the few standard days she's chosen to be away. A calm sea of reflecting and shimmering silver; rolling green hills, dotted with lush trees; a thriving, modern capital filled with people of galactic importance. Rey thinks of Chandrila to keep from acknowledging the presence of a certain Knight of Ren, thinks of the politically important planet in regards as to the people she would see once there. Like her dear friends Finn and BB-8, planetside for a short time to help Resistance high command gather more supplies and regroup.

Like General Leia Organa, resting for a moment after another failed attempt on her life. 

With a silence that chills Rey straight to the bone, the connection between her and her counterpart icily slams shut. She shivers, closing her eyes and attempting to sleep in order to keep from acknowledging he was ever there at all.

\- * - 

Kylo Ren appears indomitable, a true creature of darkness as he stalks down the hallway of a Star Destroyer. Raw power oozes from his being, frightening those on the bridge of the _Supremacy_. His facade has not shattered, not given way to his infamous destructive tendencies. The walk from Snoke’s throne room to Kylo’s chambers is agonizingly slow, testing his will with each step. Graciously he arrives without incident, disappearing through the door with ghostly silence.

A furious roar rips past his lips, distorted and more horrifying through the vocoder. Violently, Kylo tears his helmet off, bringing it up close to his face. Tears blur his view of the room and the mask in front him—he shuts the world away as his eyes close. The words Snoke hurled at him swirl round and round in his mind. 

_Failure._

Kylo remembers struggling to regain some control over his drowning emotions, remembering how his uncle sat with him for hours as he attempted mediation. The feeling of serenity skirts away from his grip, evading Kylo as he momentarily stumbles into the Light. 

_Coward._

He recalls hands filthy from repairing a part of a ship with his father and Chewie, successfully reaching a set of wires previously inaccessible to the adults. The visage of his young, smiling father morphs into an older version reaching his hand out to touch his son.

_Ingrate._

A set of wide, warm brown eyes not unlike his own, set in a round, open face with a mischievous grin. Her arms are open wide, welcoming him home. 

Kylo’s ire bubbles again, thinking of Snoke’s disappointment with him. Information has reached the First Order on General Organa’s whereabouts several times in the last few weeks, the most recent only a handful of days old. Kylo had been tasked with taking down his mother’s flagship...and when given the opportunity he could not pull the trigger. Han Solo’s face— _my father_ , he thinks—appears every time, holding him back and reminding Kylo of the lie Snoke fed to him. 

He screams again, rising to his full height and hurling his mask at the parallel wall. Bits of plastic and chrome shatter as the helmet lands with a dull thud. A thick crack splits the left side. 

Kylo’s anger is finally released through violence, unstoppable until spent. He stomps to the mask, long fingers stretching and clawing as he brings it up again. Kylo smashes the mask down onto his wall, aiming to deepen the present crack. 

_Your mother remains a weakness to you, Kylo_ , Snoke’s voice rings in the livid warlord’s mind. _She must be cut away, as you did with your father. You only gain strength through this._

As he continues to crush the helmet into oblivion, another furious growl escapes him. Kylo can’t help but see the Supreme Leader’s advice as nothing more than lies, fed to him on a silver platter as if that could disguise the foulness of what he was offered. The soreness creeping into his arm feels pleasant, a welcome distraction from the insurmountable anger pouring out of him. 

Snoke continues on in Kylo’s memories, _It seems my time spent on you has been nothing but a waste. Your failure to kill your mother is_ your _failure as my student._

The mask splinters, thousands of tiny shards flying throughout the room. His fist connects with the wall, tearing the skin of his knuckles off with painful satisfaction. The pain in his bones, on his skin, through the length of his arms, _feels good_. He continues pounding away at the wall, enjoying the physicality. 

_It seems we will need to do something about this_ , the Supreme Leader had threatened him. 

Instantly, a primal rage takes over him, overwhelming his Force connection. Kylo holds his arm mid-punch, tensed and in the air. He knows his anger intimately, knows he burns hotter than most—a never ending inferno, small flames of anger always burning somewhere in the background. 

This violent anger is not his. It is too sudden, seemingly appearing out of nowhere and overwhelming him. He is drowned by this anger, falling to his knees as it grows in strength and fury. 

And then it leaves, taking with it Kylo’s own anger. He remains kneeling, with quivering hands and ragged breathing; he is empty, drained of all emotion. A cooling peace washes over him, the soothing calm of the Light beckoning to him. Kylo almost falls off the edge until he snaps back, untangling his emotions from a woman somewhere across the galaxy. 

His mind wanders to the scavenger...to Rey. His hand unconsciously rises to trace the scar she gifted him in a fierce, snowy battle. They had last seen one another a few weeks prior, somewhere near the Unknown Regions on a humid tropical planet; another secret tryst spent near an aquamarine ocean. His eyes flutter closed, momentarily lost in the memory of her. 

He has felt her anger before, briefly and in short bursts, but never anything like what had just passed. It reminds him of how livid she’d been at _Starkiller_ during their first duel, where she had drawn upon the Dark Side to bring him down. Yet precisely for what it reminds him of does it also concern him. Forgotten is the humiliating belittlement he received from Snoke. Instead, all of the warlord’s thoughts focus on the Jakku woman and her wellbeing. 

Tentatively, he reaches out to her with his mind. The walls she has erected are penetrable if he wanted to forcefully push his way in, but he refrains. He can still sense her anger from earlier, buried deep beneath a mountain of fragile, almost false, tranquility. There are hints of other things too, little tendrils of fear coupled with her loneliness that seems amplified by the thousands, barely kept at bay by the peace she so futily attempts to grasp. 

Images of a beautiful, small, blue-green planet come to mind. A forest lush with vibrant green leaves, sunlight shining down and warming the planet, a crisp beautiful sea. A city sculpted of ancient and contemporary structures shines in the forefront of his mind—he conjures the Senate Plaza, sees the open expanse of public park clearly in his mind. Kylo could never forget the subtle grace of his homeworld. 

Rey begins thinking of her friends, of who she will see once she arrives. But he can still taste that bubbling anxiety she is trying so hard to run from, sending that she really has no idea what she’s doing and that taking off from his uncle was a foolishly impulsive thing to do. His heart aches at the thought of Rey alone and afraid in the vast world, with no one to help guide her in her training. She’s powerful, more so than his uncle could ever hope to be, and from what Rey has shared during some of their confidential trysts Kylo has gathered that Luke Skywalker is fearful of the Jakku woman and unwilling to properly teach her. She’d previously shared that his uncle’s teachings didn’t seem entirely applicable in helping the galaxy find peace.

An image of his mother appears as Rey’s thoughts float to the Resistance general. His heart accelerates and he quickly, coldly withdraws from their bond. Yet his thoughts still linger on Rey and on the turmoil haunting her. 

The galaxy is in chaos. It is the one consistent thing throughout his whole existence, the one thing that no sentient being can deny. The answer to that chaos has fluctuated throughout his life—at first Kylo thought the answer lie with his uncle, then with Snoke. But it hasn’t been the same for a long time now, ever since that fateful day on _Starkiller_. Kylo knows that the Supreme Leader has sensed his waning loyalty and increased the frequency as well as severity of the knight’s training sessions in response. All it cemented was diminishing trust and a curiosity of how Kylo can help bring balance.

_I want to seek the answer with Rey._

It’s a short statement, yet from it is born action with star-shattering consequences. The revelation feels natural, as if this is the choice Kylo would always make. 

He stands, bits of his helmet falling away from his clothes. The Master of the Knights of Ren walks out of his room aboard the Mega Star Destroyer, heading straight towards the starfighters, determination guiding every step. His decision is made, his loyalty firmly placed in someone he truly believes will help balance the disorder of the galaxy. He had been left alone with enormous raw power and kept at arm’s length because of it; Kylo refuses to abandon Rey, to leave her alone with such terrifying strength. He refuses to allow his experiences to be repeated with the Force sensitive woman. 

A certain scavenger needs him, in the same way that he needs her.

\- * - 

The lonesome moonlight filters down through the bare branches of trees, slender shadows adding a hint of danger to the otherwise whimsical forest. The Silver Sea laps at the edge of the forest, the lights of Hanna City a beacon of warmth and modernity. At this distance, the glow of homes looks identical to the tiny pinpricks of light up in space signifying another star. A meager dusting of snow completes the wintry night.

Rey shifts her weight from foot to foot, tensing and relaxing her right hand into a fist. She is located in a rather deserted area of Chandrila, far enough away from Hanna City that no prying ears can intrude on a conversation not meant for anyone else. Rey’s belly characteristically refuses to untie an anxious knot as she waits alone. Kylo came to her in a dream the night before, explaining that he had left behind the First Order and wanted to see her in their spot in the Chandrilan woods.

The disclosure of such information elated her more than it shocked her; Kylo no longer being a part of the First Order and coming to a New Republic world leaves Rey guardedly hopeful for the steps and direction the former knight will now take. 

She huffs, her warm breath condensing right before her. She is a true daughter of the desert, the heat always radiating within her, yet the cold caught her curiosity and refused to relinquish it. Rey can’t help but relish in the weightlessness she only feels when in the safe embrace of the Chandrilan woods.

A soft breeze in the predawn darkness sends shivers down her spine, an ancient coldness settling within her core. A smidge of danger accompanies the frost, heightening her alertness as she holds watch in the dead of night. Rey closes her eyes with a deep inhale, centering herself and reaching out with the Force. The surrounding oak-brown trees, giving off a low hum of energy; the scent of berries delicately coating the wind; the snap of a twig as a drowsy medium sized predator makes its way home.

The light crunch of freshly fallen snow under a heavy boot. The brief gentle scraping of a long, heavy cloak on the wet ground. The steadily calm breathing belying an explosive Force signature. 

She cannot help the smile tugging her lips upwards.

Inhaling deeply, Rey relishes the icy freshness of the air. She feels alive, electrified by the cold. Her simmering anger is all but forgotten as she turns to face her companion. 

Kylo Ren is hulking, intimidating with physicality alone, yet the way his features immediately soften upon landing on her is enough to expose how big a vulnerability she is to him. The moonlight and glittering snow in the dark void of night only further reinforce how beautiful he truly is. 

With a trembling sigh, Rey realizes with quiet sadness, _He cares so much for me._ A shake of her head dispels the thought as she looks at him with determined grit.

They’ve met before in this forest, have exposed and been exposed to one another in this sacred space. Under full leaves as filtered summer sunlight warmed their skin and the ground beneath them. For her it was no big issue to jettison away to Chandrila every few weeks—she had plenty of reasons. Her friends, a close mentor to her, and politicians all provided reasons for Rey to visit the planet. Kylo had more to jeopardize whenever he agreed to meet her at their favorite rendezvous spot, especially taking into account Chandrila was a New Republic planet. She’s chosen to ignore every knot of worry she’s had, only released when he arrives unharmed in their forest. It’s easier to ignore the other emotions he stirs in her this way. 

Wordlessly, he raises his gloved hand slowly, the entirety of his intense gaze focused on her. The breath hitches in her throat, her exhausted and overstimulated mind lost within the abyss of his dark eyes. Rey almost can’t stop herself from throwing her arms around his neck, bringing him down to her, unleashing the full extent of her emotions onto him. _Almost._

Instead she offers a timid smile, leaning sideways into his cupped palm. His brown eyes widen, his steady breathing thrown off, his heart beginning to pump faster. Each feeling is a lightning flash within his emotive eyes—Kylo’s ability to unapologetically _feel_ his emotions _as_ he feels them, to not be admonished for the strength with which he experiences his feelings, is something Rey envies him for.

He breaks the silence that begins hanging over them like icicles. “You were so angry. Almost like that first fight.” 

She’s unsure if she wants to speak, afraid to break the glacial spell weaved over them. Yet the thick ice wall she’s constructed around her emotions is heavily cracked, and his unspoken offer of _listening_ is too tempting to resist. 

“Your uncle is an incredibly difficult teacher to have,” Rey starts. She grabs hold of his hand, absentmindedly intertwining their fingers as she leads him to sit on a nearby fallen tree. Without prompting Kylo removes his cowl, wrapping it around her slender frame, the comforting scent of him gently surrounding her.

Rey leans into him as she wraps his cowl tighter around her, staring into the darkness of the forest. Little white puffs of snow still litter the air, slowly floating down to disintegrate or pile up. The knight brings his arm up to wrap around her, bringing her in closer, sharing his body heat with her. 

She lets the coldness of the air work to awaken her before continuing, “He doesn’t want to help your mother. He would rather leave her in danger than be by her side. And as someone who's never really had family...I just can’t understand that. Luke is so paralyzed by fear—he lets the past dictate too much of his present. And honestly...I’m not even sure I can continue following a path that’s already been led by Luke.”

He hums, the vibrations traveling through each rib bone, as he brings his free hand to begin carding through Rey’s loose hair. She worries at her lip, afraid she’s said too much to him about his family that she will only be met with silence. Yet his touch is soothing, comforting with no hints of anger.

The fragile silence is broken when he asks, “Why is it so important for you to a walk an uncharted path?”

“Because we have to learn and grow—the past is there to help teach us what _did not_ work, and we should reflect accordingly. The best way to do this is to chart a new path, to try new things. Yet the fear of the past, the fear that some present event will result in a ruined future is too much. You cannot grow if you continuously repeat the same mistakes. Part of the reason the Jedi Order perished is because of how entrenched it was in its ancient, unmoving dogma.”

He lets the silence swell between them, electing to pay more attention to her hair than their conversation. Only after a few moments does he simply ask, “Then why do you stay with him?” 

She remains deathly quiet, caught completely unaware. Finally, twirling to face him, the words manage past her throat, thick with emotion, as Rey confesses in a whisper, “I need someone to show me my place in all this.”

“Let the past die,” he quietly says. “Kill it, if you have to. That’s the only way to become what you’re meant to be. _You_ have to find and forge your own path.” There is a long, steady pause, their breath condensing in the chilly air around them. His cheeks are rosy from the frost; Kylo appears more boyish, more alive in the snowy moonlight as he tucks a loose strand of hair back behind her ear. He gazes longingly for another moment before adding, “At least that’s my lowly opinion.” 

Suddenly the silence between them isn’t as stifling—Rey can breathe freely and easily, an invisible weight _finally_ lifted off her chest. His answer had been the one she’d unknowingly been seeking; to have it answered, to have some part of her path suddenly clear and open before her, is a precious gift. 

Kylo still holds her within his embrace, solid and present and comforting. Their bond hums with fondness, a certain vulnerability and a new sense of purpose present as well. Rey smiles, wishing that she could stay like this forever, tucked away in a whimsical forest far from galactic conflicts and politics and in the arms of a man who has a better, intimate understanding of her than she suspects most anyone else.

A soft tenderness begins in her chest, a tiny ball of light growing stronger and brighter by the millisecond, spreading through the length of her body. A name and a phrase swiftly ring through Rey’s mind as she turns herself. The honey brown of Kylo’s eyes meet her own, vulnerable and tender and _safe._

Abruptly the wind picks up, sending a flurry of snow to dust their hair and clothes. In the brief seconds before melting, the tiny white flakes caught in Kylo’s long lashes haphazardly resemble the constellations shining above them. Even with his full lips pulled downward into a lazy scowl, the way his temper resembles and is similarly provoked like a rancor’s, the way his power comes off him in lethal waves...even with all these things, Rey can no longer hide from the revelation staring back at her in the snowy forest. The ice fortress surrounding her feelings melted away with his answer, solidifying how he seems to understand her perfectly. 

Her whispered confession is carried with the snow as the Chandrilan moon shines directly on them: “I love you.” 

He doesn’t verbally respond—his hand continues to card through her hair, seemingly afraid to break any physical connection to her, until it comes to cup her face. A gloved finger traps a snowflake on her cheek as his gaze bores right into her. 

Reflected within the warm brown of Kylo’s eyes is the same declaration Rey made: _I love you._

Their revelation allows a small respite. They still sit on the log, stars and moonlight shining down and casting an ethereal glow onto them. The glittering snow catches and reflects the pale light; small rainbows surround the Force users in this soft moment. Despite the freezing temperature there is a warmth cocooning them as the weight of their words, their actions, their positions in the galaxy briefly fade from the forefront of their minds. 

They are simply two people facing an uncertain future _together_ , alive with the glory of love.

**Author's Note:**

> after posting my submission for the rffa at the end of september, i didn't want to write anything else for the rest of the year. but then after watching the trailer, an idea crept into my head and i needed to write it out. i hope you all enjoyed this little piece 
> 
> look at this [amazing aesthetic](http://ladylionhart.tumblr.com/post/167600577506/alive-with-the-glory-of-love-a-reylo-fanfic-by) that the wonderful ladylionhart made for this story! :D thank you so much my friend <3
> 
> many thanks to [nightsofreylo](http://nightsofreylo.tumblr.com/) for beta'ing this for me and to [politicalmamaduck](https://politicalmamaduck.tumblr.com/) for encouraging me to post this up; the both of you have been such wonderful friends who've kept me writing when i felt really down. i'm blessed beyond words to have friends like you <3
> 
> kudos and comments are massively appreciative, please let me know what you think of this piece <3 come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://punkeraa.tumblr.com/)
> 
> title comes from [the song of the same name](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PFR5s96jGeg) by say anything


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